


I am not his friend

by Lizzie_Libertine



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of blood, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Short, Violence, canon violence, gay kiss, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzie_Libertine/pseuds/Lizzie_Libertine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-write of season 2, episode 6 (The rope of the dead)</p>
<p>This is how it should have gone (in my eyes).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am not his friend

Riario breathed deeply, the smell of sweat and sex clung in the air. His limbs were burning and his skin was moist but it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. _What had he done?_ Tears prickled the back of his eyes and he scrubbed them away and he continued to trudge down the narrow, stone hallway that lead to Ima's chambers. Red still stained his fingers but he clasped tight at the little vile in his hand, half hoping the glass would smash and the decision to save Leonardo would be taken from him, once and for all.

A soft, orange glow from the room at the end illuminated the dank passage he moved through. He sucked in a ragged breath and a groan he hadn't meant escaped his lips. Leonardo was a mad man. He was dangerous and selfish and self-indulgent. If ever there was an abomination to mankind, it took the form of Leonardo Da Vinci. He knew too much. He saw everything and anything he missed he could easily fill the gaps in with that crazed mind of his. Riario had never met a more infuriating nor a more intriguing creature in all his life.

As much as he hated to admit it, Leonardo had frightened him. He had shifted in his seat, sweat beading over his brow the first time he'd seen the artist on that heath. He didn't like the way his near black irises had bored into him. Riario knew he was being paranoid, but it was like the other man could read his thoughts, like the split second their eyes met, the _artista_ was in his head, probing at his memories, analysing them. Even though the day was overcast, he had chosen to keep his shades on as though they would some how protect him from the artist. They didn't.

Leonardo had looked different then. It wasn't even a few months previously but his face was softer, rounder, almost younger. His skin had been pale, as though he never stepped foot outside his studio. Riario scoffed to himself, that was probably true. His hair had been cropped and his beard was trimmed to perfection. His heart had pounded hard in his chest at the first sight of the brunet and the palms that twisted harshly in the leather reins of the horses reins had become sweaty as his mind involuntarily wandered to what the handsome man would look like sprawled out across the sumptuous sheets of his bed.

He coughed. He had spent his entire life in the service of the Lord and never once regretted the decision, until he saw him. Women had tried it with him, even some men had but he had never been interested. His dedication to God was far more powerful than and sexual awakening he may experience if he succumbed to the desires of the body. Men were weak, he knew that. Men lusted after what they couldn't have. Riario was better than that. Riario could control himself, at least he thought he could. 

His own body was a mystery to him. Of course, he'd had those feelings, he'd had those thoughts but he had managed to supress them. Even when he had heard his cousin in the next chamber, bedding anything that moved, and his cock had grown painfully stiff beneath his nightshirt, Riario had the restraint to ignore the urge to take himself into his hand and ride the crest of pleasure. Zita had been his first. It had been awkward and hurried but she had been patient with him. She had shown him how it needed to be. How he needed it to be. 

Memories of Zita's beautiful face invaded his memory. Pressing his hand to his chest, he stumbled to a stop, leaning against the damp walls. He heaved and puffed, but he felt like his heart was going to give out. He wanted to claw it out and stamp on it. He wanted to delve past his breast bone with hooked fingers and feel the tendrils snap as he tugged it from the black gaping cavity it was encased in. He wanted to pull it from his own body, watching as it throbbed it's last throb, claret spurting from the detached holes. 

Straightening up, he rubbed the searing tears from his cheeks and sniffed. He wouldn't give Ima the satisfaction of seeing him crack. He wouldn't let her know she had won, that her twisted little tasks had been the zenith of his realisation. He needed Leonardo, he didn't quite know why but he knew a world without him wouldn't be worth living in. If he didn't hurry, it would have all been for nothing. Zita's death would have been for nothing. 

Riario stepped through the archway, the warmth of the chamber washing over his chilled skin. Goose bumps burst all over him and his eyes went wide as they roved over the figure on the floor. Ima stood and stalked over to him, her hand open. His breath hitch as he handed the crystalline fluid over without a word. He remained where he was as he watched Leonard's muscular frame begin to twitch and shudder. White foam sputtered from his lips as she took him into her arms and forced the small bottle passed his lips. Urging him to wake. 

Riario wanted to turn on his heel. He wanted to run from the windowless room cut into the mountain but he was rooted to the ground. He needed to see Leonardo wake up, he needed to see those dark, dark eyes open. A sigh he didn't know he'd been suppressing escaped his lips when the other man's arms came up and clutched Ima tightly. The artist coughed, his eyes springing open, immediately focusing on Riario. His cheeks burned.

"Look," Whispered Ima, "your friend succeeded."

Riario felt his jaw tighten and his nostrils flared.

"I am not his friend." He bit out.

Silenced filled the room as the two men glared at each other, then slowly, Leonardo began to shuffled from Ima's arms. He crushed his eyes shut and whimpered a little as he lifted his heavy limbs from the floor and stood, panting and sweaty. Determined footsteps echoed around the chamber as Ima's father entered trailed by two guards. Riario remained where he was but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled as the man spoke to Ima in their own tongue. She smiled lightly, running her hand over Leonardo's face. Riario dropped his gaze.

"You have passed the test, my dreamer." She breathed.

Pressing a hand to Leonardo's chest, she walked towards her father. Riario looked up once again to see Leonardo was staring at him, unblinking. 

"Thank you." Ima said, stopping next to the count, turning back. "Tomorrow, the sun and the moon with enter the vault of heaven."

Still, Riario didn't remove his eyes from the _artista._

"As will I." He added in a gravelly voice, ignoring the wide eyed expression on Ima's face. 

Once he was sure the natives had left the chamber, he strode forwards. His shoulders tight, his fists bunched. Leonardo didn't move although Riario could see in his eyes, he knew what was going to happen. _He knew, and he wasn't going to stop him._

"I killed Zita, to save you." Riario choked out, barely able part his teeth. 

"I know." Leonardo sobbed, tears rolling over his cheeks. "She forgives you."

Riario unclenched his fist and swung his arm out with all of the power he had left in him. His palm stung as it made contact with Leonard's grubby cheek with a satisfying clap. The artist buckled a little under the impact but his eyes remained focused, staring into Riario's as he straightened up and sucked in a shaky breath. Riario lifted his hand again, the muscles rippling as he did so. This time as he swung, Leonardo caught his arm in a bruising grip and held it steady. Instinctively, his hand gripped Leonardo's forearm and squeezed as Leo's thick fingers tightened around his.

Leonardo tipped his chin up and gritted his teeth, half expecting another slap from the other side, but it never happened. His fevered skin prickled as slowly, he realised the pads of Riario's fingers were kneading at the muscle of his arm, smoothing circles into the skin. He loosened his grip slightly and stepped forwards. Their bare chests bumping against one another. Despite the fatigue, his tight, leather breeches were beginning to tent at the front.

His breath hitched when he felt Riario's bulge brush against his. Suddenly, finger's were twisting in his long, dirty locks and he was being dragged forwards. Hot, velvety lips closed over his and he allowed his eyes to close. Leonardo moaned and his hips bucked forwards as he felt Riario's tongue slide into his mouth, duelling with his own. He breathed hard as he dug his fingers into Riario's mostly nude hips and pulled him hard against him. Their sweat mixing, their breath mingling.

He whimpered a little when all at once he felt Riario pull away. He wiped his plump, pink glistening lips on the back of his grubby hands. They both heaved as they stared at each other. Leonardo didn't see it coming this time when the count's hand collided with his face and a blackness swelled around him. The last sounds he heard were the manic shrieks of Riario as he called out Zita's name again and again.


End file.
